Cross My Heart Read Online Free PDF Page B

hell,
that's what he
had
been doing, and no matter how
he tried to rationalize his behavior, they both knew it. His little
scheme to investigate her had blown up in his face and left him feeling
like the bastard he was.
    He prowled around the room. Again, as had happened so
often in the past three days and nights, the picture rose in his mind
of her sitting next to him in the car, looking as if he'd just accused
her of being the town tramp.
    He hadn't even understood what she was haranguing him
about. It wasn't until she came right out and told him that he realized
how his questions had sounded to her. All he'd wanted then was to hold
her in his arms and apologize, to somehow take back the pain he'd
caused her and wipe the look of bewildered hurt from her delicate face.
    He stopped at the window and looked out at the night,
illuminated by trillions of twinkling stars and the slender crescent
moon. He'd left shortly after she'd slammed the door and it had become
apparent she wasn't going to let him in. There was nothing else he
could do, and even if she had been willing to talk to him, he'd
probably have managed to say the wrong thing.
    Early the following morning he'd flown to Washington, D.C.
for a conference on national party issues, and he'd only just returned,
so he hadn't had a chance to go back to try to straighten things out
with her. He knew now what he was going to do, though, and it wasn't
harass Elyse. He was going to deal with his brother, as he should have
done in the first place.
    Clint returned to the desk, picked up the phone and dialed
Paul's apartment in Sacramento. Although the home in Cameron Park
belonged to their parents, their father and mother used it only as a
stopping off place between winters in Palm Springs and summers at Lake
Tahoe since their father's retirement after a stroke six years ago.
Clint stayed in residence, but sharing a house with his big brother
wasn't part of Paul's free, swinging style.
    The phone at the other end rang eight times before Clint
broke the connection. He looked at his watch. Quarter to ten. Paul was
probably out with Elyse. Clint's muscles tightened. Dammit, he was
going to get some straight answers—and soon.
    He made his decision: he'd stop in at the law firm in the
morning and confront Paul in person. He'd had enough pussyfooting
around.

    Elyse lay on her back in her big old-fashioned four-poster
pineapple bed and tried to relax into sleep. It wasn't going to be any
easier tonight than it had been for the past three nights.
    If only she didn't see Clint Edwards every time she closed
her eyes.
    It had been three days since they'd quarreled, and she
hadn't seen or heard from him. Not that she expected to. She'd made it
unmistakably clear she wasn't interested in anything he might propose,
so why did her gaze follow every car that went past the house? Why did
her heart speed up every time the doorbell or the telephone rang?
    She hardly knew the man, for heaven's sake. He might even
have a wife. He'd denied having children, but that didn't mean he
wasn't married and looking for a little extra action.
    She rolled onto her side and punched her pillow into a
more comfortable position. She didn't need Clint to haunt her dreams;
she had enough trouble with Liz. In fact, her sister was getting to be
a real pain. She was obviously miserable, but it was her own fault. She
wouldn't talk to Paul Sterling either on the phone or in person, and
she wouldn't listen when Elyse tried to reason with her. She just kept
spouting nonsense about how totally unsuitable it would be to marry a
man so much younger.
    Elyse flipped to her stomach and clutched the pillow in
her arms. Liz should thank God for sending a man like Paul Sterling
into her life. He'd admitted to being something of a hell raiser in
high school and college, but if that was true he seemed to have worked
it out of his system. Oh, he still had a streak of youthful exuberance,
but he was thoughtful and considerate, and he